


A Few Speeding Bullet One-Shots!

by CiCi_Celestial



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, I'll be tagging these as I go, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Owls, Sleeping Together, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-25 17:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14982287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CiCi_Celestial/pseuds/CiCi_Celestial
Summary: Just a few Speeding Bullet One-shots I wrote within the span of a few hours! Thought it would be a waste to let them go un-read. Hope you enjoy!Will be updated every Tuesday and Thursday!





	1. Falling in Love

Sniper wasn’t good with people. This was something everyone around the RED base knew. A recluse who spent most of his down time alone, in the RV he called a home surely couldn’t be a people person, nor could he interact with them well. He had no idea how to start a conversation, couldn’t keep one going to save his life, and he was utterly pathetic at any form of small talk. 

Knowing this, the rest of the REDs never really attempted to talk with him. They would prefer to go on with their lives, chatting amongst their little groups with ease instead of engaging the man who stuck to the wall like a flower on wallpaper. Sniper would always sit on the sidelines during meals, never engaging in conversation, preferring to busy himself with cleaning his guns and knives. No one ever made an attempt to talk to him, and he never attempted to talk to anyone. Sniper figured that was okay. They had their routine, Sniper had his. He was used to silence. 

But then the boy started talking with him. 

One day, while he had been sitting in his nest popping heads without a care in the world, his team’s Scout jogged up the stairs, plopping himself down on some crates nearby, talking amiably with Sniper, as if they had been long-time friends and this wasn’t the first time they had talked. Sniper checked numerous times, making sure the kid smiling and chatting incessantly wasn’t the enemy Spy. He wasn’t. It was the RED Scout for sure. The kid went on for minutes on end, asking Sniper questions and telling Sniper stories. Sniper hardly knew what to do, How to react. Suddenly, his customary silence was broken, and in came this loud, obnoxious kid with a strange accent. Sniper hummed when he assumed it was appropriate, a real word never leaving his mouth. Then, as if it had never happened, Scout said a quick goodbye, hopping back down the stairs. Sniper saw him through his scope, bashing in the skull of the BLU Demoman with ease.

After that days matches the Scout talked with him again. He sat next to Sniper and talked with him at dinner. He told him a story before Sniper went out to go to his camper for the night. He waved goodbye until Sniper couldn’t see him anymore, arriving at his little home-on-wheels parked far away from the base. 

It was odd. It was way out of Sniper’s comfort zone. Suddenly, there was this chatty, bratty kid that suddenly started acting as if they were close friends. At first, Sniper was dumbfounded, confused at the mere prospect that this kid would spend time with him and talk with him at all. 

Maybe it was a ruse. Maybe the team had thought of him as a joke, decided to send in Scout to try and befriend him before revealing that it was all some sick practical joke. Maybe the kid was just bored and talking at Sniper seemed like a decent way to kill time. Maybe it was a one-time thing because no one else would accept the Scout’s non stop chatter. 

Probably not. 

Bullet landed softly on his roof with a small coo. The only thing he could talk with easily was this little owl, a friendly little bird that took a liking to Sniper very quickly while he was sitting by his fire one night. It cooed again, louder this time.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Coo!” 

“I’m just thinkin’. The Scout came up and talked with me in my nest today. Was real weird.”

Silence. 

“I dunno what he’s up to. Hope it’s somethin’ good. It prolly isnt, though. He’s a crafty lil’ son of a bitch sometimes.”

A quiet huff.

Sniper fell asleep that night after he had worn out his brain, wondering why the kid would suddenly be so warm and welcoming.

\---

It happened the day after that. And the day after that. Scout would come up to Sniper’s nest, jovially talking with him before running back down to battle and resuming his position on the frontlines. Sniper would respond one word at a time, barely even providing adequate conversation for the kid. Scout didn’t seem to mind, though, continuing the conversation easily even without Sniper’s input. Scout would even sit down next to Sniper at meals, either sitting in silence as he ate or laughing loudly and gesturing animatedly with his fork about the day’s battles. The kid even helped Sniper with his inability to talk, suggesting ways to help the man whenever he believes he has nothing left to say.

Sniper asked the kid one day why he came up here to talk with him, why he would come up and talk to a man who barely even talked back. Scout’s amiable smile dropped, and his energetic tone evaporated into something more calm, more serious. 

“Because.” A pause. Scout crossed his arms in thought. “You seemed lonely, yanno? Like, you were always there, eating dinner with us and coming to team meetings with us. But you always sat alone, never talking to nobody, always actin’ like a shadow stuck to a wall. An’ everyone else just acted like that was fine. An’ for a while, I figured maybe it was. You didn’t seem like a talkative guy. But everyone deserves a friend. And since no one else wanted to try, I figured I should.” 

Sniper had no words, stunned into silence. He turned around to face the Scout, taking his eye away from his scope. He even removed his aviators to look at Scout without any barriers. No one had ever tried to be friends with him, and he figured that was okay. He thought he could live the rest of his life in solitude, and that would be okay. The kid, who sat atop his crate, shrugged when Sniper looked at him. Sniper felt a single word slip past his lips.

“Why?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you? Try, I mean.”

Scout paused again, looking at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with the Sniper. “No one deserves to be alone.” His tone was sober, real. So unlike anything Sniper had ever heard from the Scout.

They sat in silence, the sounds of battle distant from their little bird’s nest high in the sky. Sniper put his aviators back on slowly, turning away from the Scout, pivoting on his chair to focus outside the window. As he put the scope back up to his eye, he mumbled something quietly under his breath, so quiet he’s amazed the Scout even heard.

“Thank you.”

Scout replied even quieter, his tone tinted with a smile. “No problem.” 

\---

That day, something changed. Scout would still come up to Sniper’s nest and talk. But Sniper would reply to his questions in full sentences, would make his own effort into the conversation. Scout would laugh at his bad jokes and Sniper would laugh at the kid’s stories and antics. It was odd. But not in a bad way. 

Eventually, Scout found his way into Sniper’s campervan after dinner, and would sit down on the small, ragged couch and continue their conversation. They would drink a few beers some nights, their tongues loosening and their cheeks flushing and their laughter uproarious. 

Scout had met Bullet one night after a small campfire, the little owl landing in Scout’s soft hair, much to his dismay. The bird had chirped at him, and Scout had responded. Sniper’s heart tugged slightly upon seeing his two friends meeting, the owl seeming neutral as Scout freaked out about the little avian nesting in his messy hair. 

Sniper had never experienced this kind of thing. He had gone out drinking, sure. But he had never had this much fun. Had never laughed this hard nor grinned so wide. He never had a friend before. At least, not a human one. And damn, it was nice. Sniper felt a fiercer blush overtake his cheeks when he saw the large grin resting on Scout’s face, his baby blues glimmering in the fire with unshed tears of joy. 

\---

“And then, no no hang on a second-” Scout was laughing, barely able to speak a word without a giggle. Sniper was much the same, a mess on the couch unable to stop his chest from heaving with laughter. Scout laughed, before continuing, voice shaky with chuckles.

“And then I tell her, ‘Mom, I haven’t done anything wrong in my entire life!’ with this little cheeky smile, right,” He laughs, allowing Sniper to snort. “And she just smacked by ass a few times and grounded me.” 

The two break out into peals of near-drunken laughter, Scout nearly doubling over as Sniper wipes a tear from his eye. 

“Aw, mate, that’s fantastic,” Sniper says, laughter dying down as he yawned. He wipes another tear from his eye. They could hear Bullet on the roof, huffing as it sat nipping at bugs and seeds. Their laughter died down as a sense of exhaustion overcame the both of them.

Scout giggled some more, before getting up off the couch and stretching. A yawn overtakes him as well, before he sighs, grabbing his bag of sketchbooks and pencils off the table next to Sniper’s bed, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Anyway,” a quick chuckle, “I gotta head back to base. It’s gettin’ pretty late, and we’ve gotta fight to win tomorrow.” Scout headed toward the door, opening it. He put up two fingers to his temple, giving the Sniper a small salute. “Cya later, Snipes!” 

Scout rushed out of the door, taking off towards the faintly glowing RED base in the distance. Sniper shouted his own goodbye at the retreating form of the Scout, before leaning against the doorframe, a smile overcoming his face. He heard Bullet coo questioningly. 

“Yeah, He’s pretty great, innit he?” Sniper sighed. 

“Coo.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t like him as much as you like me, but he’s okay,” Sniper said, eyes trained on the small, RED Scout heading back to base. “Better than okay, really. He’s great.” That still wasn’t right, though. “Amazing, even.”

He suddenly got caught in a tsunami of emotion. He thought of the Scout again. His smiling face. Hi gorgeous, baby blue eyes. The soft voice he would only use whenever he talked with Bullet. His unique, loud laugh. The distant, gleeful look in his eyes he got whenever he told Sniper stories from his home in Boston. Sniper’s heart thumped slightly louder, and he felt his pulse thrum with an emotion he had never experienced before. It was vaguely familiar, but different in every way. He felt his face heat up in a blush, his heart stuttering uselessly.

He understood. He had never been so sure of what he was feeling in his life.

“He’s perfect.”


	2. Sleeping In

It’s not unusual for Scout to wake up earlier than he needs to. In fact, it was quite common for Scout to wake up one hour earlier than his alarm, unable to fall back into his blissful sleep or recall his odd dreams provided by his subconscious. It was a nuisance, waking up way before he needed to. He could never quite motivate himself out of bed, and he would merely lay under his covers and stare blankly at the ceiling. Scout never really had to worry about this habit of his, as it never bothered anyone aside from himself.

 

Tonight was one such night. Scout found himself awake, the night sky still looming over the desert, awaiting the sun’s glorious reprise of morning. Scout looked over the large, warm body of the Sniper laying beside him, over at their alarm clock. Four twelve. Way too early for any normal person to be awake. Scout wasn’t a normal person, so he supposed it worked. Scout settled back down on the bed, careful to not disturb the sleeping man beside him. Sniper just snorted, one of his arms finding its way around Scout’s middle, pressing his naked body closer to Scout’s. His eyes were still closed, lost in sleep. All the barriers Sniper usually put up were stripped away, the aviators, the clothes, the stiff grimaces he would put on in lieu of smiling. He rubbed his face further into the pillow, as if to nuzzle it. Scout smiled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

 

Scout stared at the Sniper’s face, taking in the details over and over, reminding himself that he was his. This man, this lanky sniper from a country full of muscular douchebags and colorful accents was all his. The light, itchy stubble that graced his chin and gave texture to their kisses. His lips, moulded perfectly to Scout’s when they kissed and allowed the world to brighten as he smiled. The sunken areas surrounding his mud-brown eyes. The soft, short, sweaty brown hair atop his head. The hallow scar on his cheek from an enemy Spy’s knife. The entirety of his long face, irregular in shape but perfect all the same. The hair that spotted his chest and arms and legs. The rough texture of his hands whenever they filled themselves with Scout’s body. His build, not scrawny like himself but not muscular like the Heavy, but a perfect frame that left Scout speechless. The way he would stutter in public, then look at Scout to calm himself own. The way he would drape himself over Scout like a blanket, holding him as close as a stuffed animal. The way his voice would go dark whenever he whispered sweet nothings or seductive sentences into Scout’s ears. All of it was his.

 

The way he protected Scout on the battlefield, making sure none of the BLUs could ever dream of touching him. The smiles that Scout and only Scout could see, whenever they were locked in their home away from home together. The way Sniper would settle his head between Scout’s lap, easily slipping into sleep as if it were the easiest thing in the world. The way he grasped Scout’s hand in his own, grip neither to tight or loose. The way he would look at Scout when he thought Scout couldn’t see, eyes lidded with pleasure or sleep, the look of a man in pure awe and disbelief. He would look at Scout as if he were a god, someone to be loved and worshipped with everything someone had. The way he looked at the marks Scout would leave, like trophies earned from the most difficult task imaginable. The way Sniper laughed when it was just the two of them, ugly yet beautiful. The way that he loved Scout in his own, quiet, secretive way. That was all his. 

 

Scout felt a myriad of emotions bubble up, the most prominent being love for this man who cared about him more than anyone else would. Scout stuck his head under Sniper’s chin, settling his head underneath Sniper’s neck, nearby his chest. He wrapped his own arm around the Sniper’s larger frame, hand resting comfortably on his back. He snuggled closer to Sniper, hearing the man’s slow heartbeat with a glorious clarity one could only hope to find in diamonds. He felt Sniper’s chest rise and fall, a slow, melodic rhythm. Scout barely noticed himself slipping away as he listened intently to the man’s heart and breath. 

 

\---

 

Sniper awoke later in the morning than usual. It was Sunday, a ceasefire day. They were allowed to do whatever they wanted for the entire day, a blessing amongst the tired mercenaries. Sniper turned his body, careful not to wake the sleeping Scout beside him, glancing at the clock on the small table. Nine forty-four. There was still plenty of time for the two to sleep. Sniper turned back around, looking at the naked kid in his arms. Scout was still sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly ajar, drool pooling in a small spot on the pillow as he snored quietly. He was pressed up right against Sniper’s chest, ear right on his heart. Sniper felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. He kisses Scout on his forehead, mumbling something incoherent to even him, and falling back asleep with ease. 

 

The two continued to sleep for two hours after that, wrapped up in one another, a bundle of lanky limbs and goofy grins and love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess who also decided to update on Thursdays, too!
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	3. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry today's chapter was late! D: It's longer, so I hope that'll make up for it!

Sniper never really had a close friend. He was alone for most of his life, a lanky, skinny freak amongst a myriad of other larger, buffer Australians. He never even imagined that one day he’d have someone he’d call closer than family. But here he was. The Scout had more or less adopted him as a new friend, hanging out with him whenever they had downtime together.

 

Scout was seated next to him in a shitty fold-up chair, talking at him while gesturing wildly with one arm. He held his other arm steadily, turning the small marshmallow pierced on the end of the stick above the warm flames of their campfire. Scout was great company, the kind Sniper had never had before. He would fill up the silence with his chattering, occupy the cold space next to Sniper, warming it up with his happy disposition and friendly smiles. 

 

He had never been in love before Scout came into his life. But once Sniper realized what that squirming was in his gut, what that warmth was in his chest, he was certain. He had no idea how he fell so easily for this kid, this person nearly 15 years his junior. It must have been his loneliness at the time, finally culminating into something horrifically beautiful, a longing he couldn’t quite deny. But Sniper tired his best to tie the feelings down, never let them out no matter what. Scout couldn’t be with him, not even in his wildest fantasies. It hurt, but it was the truth. 

 

Sniper snapped out of his stupor, focusing again on the younger man beside him. He was telling Sniper the story of one of his more theatrical brothers, Jeffery. He was a man who was loud and exuberant, and would often cheer on Scout at any of his baseball games or track meetups. In turn, Scout would watch the plays he starred in. 

 

“Like, he was way too good for our school. I don’t care for any of that theater crap for the most part, but he got  _ into  _ his roles, man. I wouldn’t even remember that he was my own damn brother sometimes, he was so good at becoming someone else! He was the best one of the bunch, even got accepted into some great-ass colleges because they saw his talent. You’d never believe how good this guy was at is job, man. I should call him, maybe we could go see one of his shows if he’s in town. You like theater, right Snipes?”

 

“Don’t mind it much,”  Sniper smiled, sticking his marshmallow onto his own stick. “But now I gotta see your brother, see if he’s really as good as you say.”

 

The smile that lit up Scout’s face was beautiful. “Oh, he is,” he blew at his brown marshmallow, sticking it into his mouth. “He’s the only one of my brothers I ever really liked. He’d take me backstage and let me draw while he practiced, even let me design some of the sets. And he was the only one aside from my Ma who would show up at my tack meets or ball games. He’s awesome.” 

 

Sniper hummed amusedly. Jeff was the only brother Scout seemed to talk about positively. Sniper watched as the small white sweet on his stick turned charcoal brown, letting it cool off away from the fire. Scout saw the charred marshmallow on the end of Sniper’s stick, scoffing playfully at it.

 

“You’re doing it wrong, Sipes, everyone knows golden brown is the best,” Scout poked Sniper on the arm with his own stick, wet and sticky from Scout's mouth. 

 

Sniper huffed, much like the small owl who deemed his camper a home away from home. “Naw, mate, black’s the best. Nice and hard on the outside, soft on the inside.”

 

“I’ll never understand you and your strange, Australian ways,” Scout said, a smirk painting his face. Sniper shrugged, a smile creeping its way on his face. He felt something squirm in his gut, ignoring the feeling the best he could. Sniper stuck the black marshmallow into his mouth, savoring the sweetness. Scout grabbed three more marshmallows from the almost-empty bag, putting two on his stick and eating the third. Sniper didn’t care for sweets as much as Scout did, but he could enjoy the occasional bag gummy worms, bars of dark chocolate, or the extreme sweetness of toasted marshmallows. Scout had devoured most of them before they had even gotten the chance to roast them, too excited at the aspect of the sweet to save it for later. 

 

Sniper swallowed down his charred marshmallow, sighing contentedly. “So, when do ya think yer brother’s gonna-” Sniper’s mouth clamped shut when he realized Scout had suddenly scooted much, much closer to him. So close, their knees were touching. So close Sniper could see the bare freckles lining his cheeks and the bright, icy blue highlight in his eyes. He brought up a tape-wrapped hand, brushing a small, stray glob of marshmallow off of Sniper’s chin. It left a small smear of white against the thin layer of stubble. Sniper shuddered at the feeling. An intense yet gentle fire laid behind Scout’s baby blue eyes, more intense than the stare he would get when he was beating a Spy or Medic to death with his bat, more gentle than his caring words he uttered when Sniper needed them most. His cheeks were tinted with a beautiful pink blush, teeth worrying his lower lip as if he had a secret to spill.  The hand lingered, resting firmly on his long cheek, his thumb moving back and forth slowly. His breath was dancing on Sniper’s lips, soft and warm. It was one of the strangest things Sniper had ever experienced. It wasn't bad, it wasn’t good, just… strange. 

 

Scout leaned forward and pressed his lips to Sniper’s gently.

 

Time stood still.

 

He had never been kissed by someone else before, no one had been his friend. No one had opened up to him, and yet, here he was, being kissed by Scout, of all people. The youngest, most handsome and energetic mercenary there was, and he was locking lips with Sniper. The warmth in his chest spread, filling his limbs with hot lava, the squirming in his gut getting worse, so much worse. 

 

Scout was being much too sweet. Almost lovingly sweet. Lovingly- 

 

This couldn’t be happening, Scout couldn’t be kissing him, why in the fresh hell would Scout ever kiss him, he was a dirty Australian with kidney failure, social anxiety, without the muscles that defined who the hell he even was, he wasn’t worth the time of day to spend time with nor was he worth the energy that was required to hang out with him, he couldn’t understand why scout would ever choose him, why he seemed like a good option to kiss, to spend his life with, even to simply have a fling with, because he wasn’t worth it, he wasn’t good enough and he was so much older than Scout was and he couldn’t even imagine why Scout would kiss him and he couldn’t move, he was rooted to this spot, and he felt it become harder and harder to draw in breaths and each gulp of air was burning, burning like smoke, he couldn’t understand, he couldn’t see, the world had gone fuzzy - 

 

“-ipes? Snipes!”

 

He felt something gently lay on his shoulder. It felt like the only thing that was grounding him to reality. The only link between him and the world. He heard Scout’s voice calling his name. Another link. He felt another thing lay on his other shoulder. He heard Scout’s muted whispers. Another. Sniper opened his eyes - when had he closed them? - seeing a blur of red and pale skin and a dash of blue. One more. Sniper felt one of the things on his shoulder move, move toward his face. He felt the soft feeling of a thumb on his cheek, rubbing slowly. It was Scout, the familiar grip tape texturing his hand.

 

“-s okay, It’s okay, I’m here-” 

 

Sniper flung his arms around Scout, shoving his head firmly onto his chest, hugging him close. He needed to ground himself completely. He took a shuddering, shaky inhale, barely getting any of the hot air into his lungs before he choked on a half sob. He felt Scout’s hands - that’s what those things were - fall on his shoulders, gripping Sniper close to his chest, to his heartbeat. 

 

“Shh. It’s okay, it’s okay,” Scout intoned quietly, whispering into the shaking Sniper’s ear. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

 

They stayed like that for a few moments, the Sniper taking heaving breaths as he tried to calm his pounding heart. Scout whispered sweet nothings into his ear, rubbing his hands up and down Sniper’s back. “You’re okay.”

 

Sniper took in a shuddering breath, before turning his head up to look at Scout. Scout’s face finally came into focus, became more than a blur of color. His face lacked its trademark grin, replaced by a slack-jawed frown as he looked at the Sniper gathered in his arms. His eyes were darting around Sniper’s frame and face, trying to identify exactly what was wrong, exactly what he needed to do. Sniper felt the words stutter out of his mouth before his panicked, fuzzy brain could even deny them.

 

“M sorry…”   
  


Scout’s face lit up in what seemed to be horror. He exhaled sharply. Sniper could smell the sweet, smoky marshmallow on his breath. “No, no no no, don’t apologize! I should be the one-”

 

“Why me? Why would you…” Sniper took a shaky inhale. “Why would you kiss  _ me? _ ” 

“Sniper…” The younger man had no words, stupefied into silence. 

 

“’M not worth it, Scout, I’m not - not good enough, for you, I mean, I’m -” Sniper stuttered, trying to get his still-rushing thoughts in order. He looked at the fire beside them, intently looking away from Scout. His heart was still beating a million miles a minute, he still needed air in his lungs, but he needed to get the words out. Especially while the kid’s baby blue eyes were shining, hurt and afraid into his own. “You deserve so much better than me. You - you can’t -”

 

Scout hushed him again, louder, taking his stubble-covered face in his hands. He forced the man to look his way, but Sniper still looked the other way, eyes lidded to avoid that blue stare. “No, Sniper,” His voice was something Sniper had heard once, maybe twice before when Sniper let hs fickle emotions get the better of him. It was soft, gentle, slow, everything Scout wasn’t. Sniper closed his eyes entirely. “I don’t deserve you.” He wasn’t shortening you, he was making an effort to say the whole thing. “You’re the only thing that makes livin’ in this hell enjoyable. I mean, you actually put up with me an’ my shitty habits, an’ -”

 

A small, pitiful laugh wormed its way out of Sniper’s lips. “‘Bad habits?’ ‘I don’t deserve you?’ Kid, I can’t even go to the store and buy a bag of marshmallows like a normal person, you had to go with me. And even then, I still couldn’t even talk with the lady over the counter. I have severe bladder damage that makes it so I have to piss more often. You’re still young, Scout, I’ll just hold you down. You can’t -”

 

“Sniper, please,” Scout sounded desperate. “Please listen.”

 

Sniper listened. 

 

“You’re the only good thing ‘bout my life right now, Snipes. I hadn’t really been happy since before I met you, yanno?” Sniper’s eyes opened at that. Scout wasn’t happy? “Like, ever since Jeff left for his career, I haven’t ever had someone to talk with or be with. My Ma was busy datin’ some random guy she picked up off’a the street, n’all’a my friends from school up’n left, and I was alone. It sucked. I got real violent, ‘cause I didn’t have anythin’ left. Then I came here, tried to restart my life. Tried to make friends, but they all ignored me or told me to fuck off. N’ then I tried talkin’ with you, and you listened. N’ then you actually cared ‘bout me, and my wellbein’, and you showed me your home and your owl and suddenly I was happy, happy for real. Because you were there for me when no one else was, Sniper,” Scout’s breath stuttered. Sniper looked up.

 

Scout had tears in his eyes, filling those blues with shiny drops of saline. He was still looking down at Sniper, his face twisted into a sad smile. 

 

“And eventually, I realized I had fallen in love with you. At first, I denied it, I couldn’t be in love with my teammate. It was probably just some leftover hormones from puberty kickin’ in. Then it lasted for way longer than any silly crush I’ve ever had. N’ I realized that I was hopelessly in love with you. N’ I loved all of you, even the parts you didn’t seem to like ‘bout yourself. N’ I couldn’t believe that you hated anything about yourself, because you’re just…you’re...” 

 

Scout was at a loss for words. He faced away from Sniper, bringing up one hand to wipe away the tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. Sniper felt the warmth spread, hotter than ever before, more comforting than ever before. He knew what it was called now. He didn’t want to deny it anymore. He wrapped his arms closer around Scout, heartbeat still thumping in his ears and chest as he pressed his head close to Scout’s chest. Scout wrapped his arms around Sniper, shoving his face into Sniper’s shoulder. 

 

Sniper found the miraculous courage somewhere within him, and he whispered into the Scout’s ear, more silent than the earth itself. Yet it was the most important thing Sniper had ever said. “I love you too, Scout.”

 

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, Sniper on his knees and Scout standing still. Sniper could hear Scout’s heartbeat more than his own now. He had no idea how long they stayed like that until Scout pulled away, looking at Sniper with tear-red eyes. 

 

“Can we try that kiss again? I want to make it right.”

 

Sniper still felt a small twinge of doubt rise up in his throat. “Are you sure, Scout?”

 

“Certain.”

 

Scout pressed his lips to Sniper’s again, gently and sweetly, just like before. Sniper reciprocated, the doubt still there, but overwhelmed by the amazing sensation of Scout so close to him and touching him and loving him back. The kiss was chaste and vanilla, but it was perfect. Sniper was the first to pull away, completely out of breath. Scout was much the same, panting against Sniper’s lips. He smiled, big and bright.

 

“That’s a little bit better don’t you think?” 

 

Sniper had to laugh a little, if at just the absurdities that had occured today. Scout was there, and he loved him back ,and even if the doubt and fear was there, he had someone with him. He had Scout, and Scout had him. For as long as they had each other. 

 

“Much better.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, what cuties. 
> 
> Also, I have an announcement to make about the state of my other current fic, Wolf without teeth. I'll fill you guys in on Thursday. Until then, have a fantastic day, dearies!


	4. Getting Drunk

_ “-He’s one holy roller, he’s got hair down his knee -”  _

 

__ Sniper had never seen such disorganized chaos. And he wasn’t entirely sure that he didn’t enjoy it. He took another long sip from his beer. He also probably hadn’t been this drunk in a long-ass time. Maye 10 years? He wasn’t sure. 

 

_ “Got to be a Joker-” _

 

__ The REDs were sitting around a roaring campfire, drinks in their hands. They were all drunk as hell, loosening their tongues and brightening their moods. Sniper never really was an excitable drunk, but watching Scout sing without a care in the world put a big, dopey grin on his face. 

 

_ “He just do what he please-” _

 

__ Engineer, Soldier, Scout and Demo were all singing horribly along to The Beatles’ “Come Together”, as Engineer played the chords on his guitar. Demo was automatically taking the base part, singing the base notes slowly as he slurred the words. Scout and Solly were taking the melody, while Engineer partook in the alto-esque harmony. While they were singing the interlude, Scout erupted out laughing as Demo gestured with one arm, making crazy faces with one another. Sniper snorted, seeing the carefree and joyous look on Scout’s face as he picked up the next verse, singing like a drunken parrot, coming close to falling into the campfire beside them.

 

_ “He wear no shoeshine, he's got toe-jam football-” _

 

Spy was sitting next to Engineer, a cigarette in one hand, a box of classy champagne in the other. He was busy watching Engineer’s hands as they fumbled with the guitar, snorting when the man struck the wrong chord. Engineer smacked the cigarette out of Spy’s hand when the smoke curled to close to his nose. Spy cursed creatively in french, before settling his head on the Texan’s broad shoulder. 

 

Scout, Solly, Demo and Engineer all reached the chorus, and began singing at what felt like the top of their lungs.  _ “Come together - Riiight now - Over me-” _

 

__ Once the chorus was over, Scout leaned back into Sniper’s shoulder, laughing brightly. He had to take a few deep breaths, slowly putting air back into his lungs. Solly shout-sang the next verse, spouting what seemed to be nonsense. Sniper wrapped his arm around Scout’s shoulders, bringing Scout closer to his chest. Sniper took another sip of his beer. 

 

“That was amazin’, Scout. Yaint a half bad singer.” Sniper’s chest shook with silent laughter.

 

“I’m an amazing singer, thank you!” Scout slurred, hitting Sniper weakly on the chest with the back of his hand. 

 

“Schwachsinn! My Heavy ist der beste Sänger hier! Du singst wie ein dummer Nymphensittich mit geschnittenen Stimmbändern!” Medic screeched, large glass of imported beer in hand. He gestured harshly to Scout, the beer in his glass sloshing around noisily, a few small droplets falling out. Heavy laughed, putting a big hand over Medic’s shoulder. A small blush overtook his cheeks, before he whispered something to the German quietly. Medic only responded in more of his native tongue, bringing a hand up the the Russian’s cheek, giving him a chaste kiss, laughs still spilling out from the corner of his lips.

 

Scout huffed, puffing out his cheeks like a disobedient child in time-out. Sniper barely had time to react to the adorable pout gracing his lover’s face before Scout had two fistfulls of his shirt, tugging him lower to Scout’s mouth. Scout kissed him full on the lips, trying to pry open Sniper’s mouth with his tongue. Sniper reciprocated easily, opening his mouth and turning his head a bit to get better access into his lover’s mouth. Normally, such a display of affection in front of their coworkers would cause Sniper to turn into a flustered, blushing mess as he tried to get Scout somewhere more private. But now, with the alcohol buzzing through his system, he found he didn’t care. He turned Scout from his spot, and Scout wrapped his legs around Sniper’s middle in response. He felt sparks travel up his spine, his brain was abuzz with warmth and a growing lust. Sniper was too enraptured by Scout to notice or care about the Demoman loudly cheering beside them, or the Spy chiding them to “get a room”. 

 

Scout pulled away only when he ran out of breath, licking his slightly swollen lips, keeping his lidded eyes trained on Sniper. Sniper put one large hand on Scout’s thigh, the rest of the world melting from view. Everything around them faded away, leaving just Sniper and Scout. Sniper lifted up the man by his legs, throwing the younger man over his shoulder. Scout made a small fuss, lightly pounding his taped hands on the Sniper’s back in mild protest. Sniper rose from his seat and began walking briskly to his camper, unable to even hear the other mercenary’s comments or see how Scout shot Medic a cheeky middle finger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, as usual! You are all amazing and I love you all very much. <3 But now is time for sadder news.
> 
> Yes, I'm discontinuing Wolf Without Teeth. Sadly, my intrest in this ship and this fandom as a whole has been waning, as I'm prone to doing. I can't be inspired to write much more, and I'm afraid the chapters would drop in quality the longer I would continue to try and write it. I am deeply sorry, dearies. 
> 
> But yes. A week after tomorrow, I will delete Wolf Without Teeth. Sorry to all of you who were excited to see it continue. 
> 
> Next tuesday will be the last one-shot, and it is one of my favorites i have ever written. Until then, farewell, and have a fantastic day, dearies.


	5. Growing Old Together

“What do you want for dinner?”

 

“Don’t care. Do we have any spaghetti?”

 

“Think so.

 

"Make that, then.”

 

He heard Jeremy in the kitchen, rummaging around the space looking for a box of spaghetti. Mundy went back to his book, reading the large printed words slowly, keeping one arm on the little red-coated fox curled up on his legs. After so many years of looking down a scope with yellow-tinted prescription sunglasses, his sight had gone a little bit. His reading glasses sat on his nose, nearly falling off. He needed to get them readjusted, the tiny screws were practically coming undone. It was a hassle, pushing them up every two minutes when they were about to fall off his face. The light streaming from the kitchen was blotted out by the vague form of his lover, holding up a box of bowtie-shaped noodles.

 

“These work? I’ll make some meatballs, too, but only if you make the salad an’ the garlic bread,” Jeremy said, shaking the box a bit.

 

“‘Course. What else ‘m I good for, nowadays?” Mick laughed, the mucus in his lungs coming up and out with a wheezing cough, irritating Scout, who jumped out of his lap with a small squeak. Jeremy rolled his eyes, a grin pulling up the sides of his wrinkled face as he leaned over to pet the red fox as it limped into the kitchen, falling over from the lack of it’s front left leg. Jeremy scooted his foot to allow Scout through with more space as the little limber limper made his way to his food bowl.

 

“Well, for one, the sex is still great,” Jeremy said, coming closer to give Mick a small kiss on the forehead, pushing up his reading glasses with a soft finger. “For two, I love ya to death, an’ I can’t imagine a life without ya,” A kiss on the cheek. “An’ three,” A kiss full on the lips, a tongue worming its way into Mick’s mouth, tracing a familiar pattern across his teeth and tongue, twining it with his own. He pulled away with a wet, slick sound, giving Mick his trademark grin.  “You’re married to me, so that means ya must be good for somethin’.” 

 

“Heh. You’re right, anklebiter,” Mick laughed, pressing his nose against Jeremy’s cheek, exhaling hotly. He felt Jeremy shiver.   
  


“My god, I ain’t your anklebiter anymore, Mick,” Jeremy laughed, wrapping his arms around Mick’s shoulders. “I’m 56. I think I revoked that title when I was 30, at least.” Jeremy kissed him on the mouth again, chaste and sweet. Mick still, even after all these years, had no idea how he got so lucky. This man, Jeremy, was all his. 

 

“Naw, you’ll always be my anklebiter, love,” Mick said, kissing Jeremy on the cheek. “Even when you’re my age.”

 

“Aww, shuddup, ya’re only, like, 68.”

 

“Nearly 69. You know what that means.” Mick waggled his brow at his partner, causing the man to laugh heartily. Jeremy pulled away from the embrace, punching Mick on the shoulder lightly. 

 

“Filthy old man.”

“You were thinking ‘bout it too, roo, don’t lie.  Lying looks bad on you.” 

 

“Of course, dear, You know me. Your filthy little Scout.” Jeremy smirked, an all-too familiar playful smirk Mick had originally fallen in love with those some 30 years ago. God, when was the last time he called Jeremy Scout? It had been so long, too long. Now Jeremy was to old to still run fast and he was too old to continue looking through his scope. How times have changed. Jeremy turned to go back into the kitchen, and Mick picked up the book in his lap again, now flipped to a completely different page.  “Anyway, you want sausage or beef meatballs?”    
  


“Beef. Sausage is startin’ to upset my stomach.” Mick flipped to the right page.

 

“Aw, does that mean I won’t be gettin’ those excellent blowjobs a’ yers anymore?” Jeremy turned on the tap, filling a pot with water.

“‘Course not, love,” Mick said, watching Scout limp back into the living room, hopping up onto the couch and curling his tail over his eyes with a high-pitched sigh. “You’re the exception.”

 

“Good to hear. Now, get your lanky butt in here. You need to make the bread, handsome,” Jeremy called from the kitchen. Mick dog-eared the page in his book, getting out of the chair with a groan. He meandered into the kitchen, watching Jeremy heat up the beef and water, setting the water to boil over the stove. When he looked at Jeremy in one of his old work shirts, the large, red flannel draping over his small frame, his chest filled with a familiar, all-consuming warmth. 

 

He was happy. He had Jeremy, he had Scout, he had everything he could have ever wanted. He couldn’t look down the scope anymore, and Jeremy couldn’t outrun bullets, but they were still alive and happy, so long as they were together. 

 

\---

 

Mick woke up in the middle of the night, breathing rapidly, jerking upwards in a rush.  The details of his nightmare already began to flee to the corners of his vision, and the dark room materialized before him. Scout, who was laying over his feet, squaked and scrambled to drape himself over Jeremy’s feet instead. He heard Jeremy groan unintelligibly, rolling over to face him. Mick covered his eyes with a hand, rubbing them harshly, the wrinkles below his eyes feeling more prominent than ever.

 

“Wazza’ matter, Mick?” Jeremy mumbled, voice rough with sleep.

 

He couldn’t find his voice to explain. Jeremy wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his hand in a familiar circular motion down his back. 

 

"Jus’- Nightmare,” Mick replied, voice thick. “You n’ Scout were - someone’d killed both of you, an’ I just -” Mick sighed, knowing how stupid it sounded. This was a nightmare he had often, walking into his house to find Jeremy lifeless in a puddle of blood, just as he had many times when they had been working at Mann Co. Scout would be much the same, tainted red with blood, meekly breathing, just as Mick had first found him. The thought of losing Jeremy terrified him more than anything else. Even the nightmares involving his parents - his shitty ones, not his real parents - paled in comparison.

 

“It’s okay, I won’t leave ya,” Jeremy pushed him down gently, kissing Mick on the cheek again, latching his naked body onto Mick’s own. Mick wrapped his arms tightly around Jeremy, holding him as close as he could. He felt his body, feeling for the familiar scars on Jeremy’s back, his coarse and wrinkled hand rubbing down smooth skin. “I won’t ever leave ya. Not even death can keep me away from ya at this point.” 

 

“Yeah,” Mick took a shaky inhale, trying to steady the heart pulsing in his ears. “Yeah. I know. The same thing goes with me. The devil himself couldn’t keep me away from you.”

 

“Mhm. Now go back to sleep, hun, before Scout gets any ideas.” At his name, the little red fox perked up his ears. With a small whine, he dropped them again, sighing into the blankets pooled around Jeremy’s feet. “Last time this happened he wouldn’t get back to sleep, and we had to take him for a walk in the rain.”

 

“Yeah,” The little guy had tried jumping up into the rain, despite the lack of his leg, eating the raindrops while squeaking excitedly at 2 in the morning while Mick and Jeremy watched, slowly being drenched while still in their sleep clothes. 

 

“Goodnight, Mick. I love you.”

 

“Love you too, Jeremy. More than you’ll ever know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me, dearies.


End file.
